bliss
by tysunkete
Summary: Part nine: unnatural selection sequel. (Furuya grips his hand tighter. "Are you going home afterwards, senpai?" Miyuki meets his eyes. He isn't planning to, but, "Why?" "Can I visit?" Furuya asks.) Furumiyu.


_Title:_ bliss  
 _Fandom:_ Daiya no Ace  
 _Character/Pairing:_ Miyuki/Furuya  
 _Summary:_

"…Do you have something to say?" he asks, voice less steady than he intends it to be—his neck is starting to feel warm from the intense attention.

Furuya grips his hand tighter. "Are you going home afterwards, senpai?"

Miyuki meets his eyes. He isn't planning to, but, "Why?"

"Can I visit?" Furuya asks.

 _Notes:_ As usual, I wasn't supposed to write this because 1) WORK and 2) I have two other fics that have actual _deadlines_ , but…I hate you Miyuki, as always.

Don't let Miyuki's issues fool you; tbh I just wanted to write sexy times oops

* * *

 _-everything about you pains my envying-_

* * *

Spring break is one of those holidays that Miyuki doesn't really like. That's not to say he isn't thrilled about passing the year and getting promoted, or that it's one of those rare times where he's totally free of any academic obligations and even, for once, baseball. Spring break is that one measly week where everyone goes home—to wherever that is. Maybe that's more of the issue, because Miyuki would rather stay in the dorms than go back home for that week.

It's not like it's particularly terrible, going back. It's just that it's… _weird_ to go back, in a way, especially during Spring breaks. Summers are usually busy with trainings for the fall tournament and winter break is well, _fine_ , because he understands that there's Christmas and New Year's and it makes sense to show his face at home even if his father barely acknowledges it, but—but. Spring is when he goes home with nothing to do for an entire week, and he could just as easily spend that entire week in Seido doing nothing as well.

At least there's batting gear in Seido if he wants to practise instead of having to spend money at batting cages.

It's then not unusual that he procrastinates going back, since it's just a train ride away—usually he stays the weekend and goes back on Monday, not that his father actually notices…or cares…but well. At least at home he can cook actual food for the week instead of surviving on instant ramen.

The dorms are quiet on Saturday morning seeing as most have gone back on Friday night to make use of the full week to spend time with their families. Not many are about, and majority, if not all, will make their way home by the afternoon. Miyuki lets himself sleep in without an alarm and wakes groggily to nearly noon. His roommates have vacated by then—and without a planned schedule for the day, he takes his time to enjoy the hot empty bath. He's hungry by the time he gets out, and whistles his way to the convenience store with a list of indulgences that he's ready for his holiday pig out. It's been a while since he's had something sweet, and a couple of tubs of ice-cream sounds like it should absolutely be on his to-do list for the day.

When he walks into the store and towards the instant ramen aisle, however, he sees Furuya looking back at him, just as surprised.

"Miyuki-senpai."

"Hey," he greets slowly. "You haven't gone home?"

"My flight is tomorrow," Furuya says. "…I booked my ticket late. The planes are full today."

Miyuki chuckles, because that's not so surprising.

"What about you, senpai?"

 _Don't you live in Tokyo, you can just take the train home_ , _can't you?_ is the unsaid question. _Why are you still here?_

Miyuki shrugs casually. "I'm in no rush to go back."

That doesn't answer any questions that he knows Furuya is curious about, but he leaves it as that and turns towards the aisle with a loud hum, as though choosing ramen flavours are much more important. He can feel Furuya's eyes on him as he scans the shelf, and eventually he sighs, tucking one hand into his pocket.

"…Toru," he begins, glancing over to the pitcher with a tilt of his head. "Let's have a lunch date."

Furuya's eyes brighten in such a tangible way that Miyuki almost laughs. He offers his other hand towards the other, amused at the way Furuya looks at it uncertainly, like he can't believe that Miyuki is actually holding out his hand for him to take. It's things like these that Miyuki has to ignore the guilty stab in his chest and the reminder of how terrible he has been—is—a boyfriend; he hasn't done anything to make up for that Valentine's day chocolate exchange, either.

"Well?" Miyuki raises his eyebrows. "It won't be kanitama, but there's a place about two blocks away that has good Thai food. Might be better than instant ramen."

Furuya takes his hand with a curl around his fingers and nods, aura blindingly light. Miyuki hides his grin and leads him out of the store. It's maybe the first time other than that one date that they're walking down the street hand in hand—Miyuki toys with their laced fingers lightly, forcing himself to relax—it's empty since the holiday week has begun, anyway.

He also can feel Furuya staring at him intently as they make way towards their lunch place, which makes his skin prickle.

"…Do you have something to say?" he asks, voice less steady than he intends it to be—his neck is starting to feel warm from the intense attention.

Furuya grips his hand tighter. "Are you going home afterwards, senpai?"

Miyuki meets his eyes. He isn't planning to, but, "Why?"

"Can I visit?" Furuya asks.

The question throws him _completely_ off guard. For a few seconds he stares, because he isn't sure if he heard that right, but Furuya merely waits for his answer so he probably did hear that right. Why Furuya would ever want to visit his house, his _empty_ house, he has no idea—until he remembers that Furuya doesn't know about…that.

"I have nothing at home," he replies as offhandedly as he can.

 _Nothing of interest_ , he knows that's how Furuya will understand it, but he means nothing, as in, literally, no one. Nothing.

"If we're going to do something, it's better that we stay in Seido," he adds on, and then slightly regrets the attempt to explain himself, like he's trying to convince Furuya—or himself—of that reason.

Furuya considers his response and makes to say something, but Miyuki spots the Thai café a couple of steps away and untangles their hand hold, pulling the other towards it by the wrist instead. As he tells the waiter a table for two, he feels Furuya looking at him again, but the other stays quiet and follows him inside.

* * *

Lunch passes with not too much fanfare—Miyuki orders a green curry, and Furuya stares at the menu for too long until he cuts in and decides on Pad Thai for him. It's always been quiet between them but that's okay; Miyuki actually likes that he doesn't need to rack his brain to say something to fill it, because Furuya seems content to just be with him.

They end up back at the convenience store after, because Miyuki hasn't forgotten about his ice-cream.

"Miyuki-senpai," Furuya starts suddenly when Miyuki is picking out the flavours that he wants. "We don't have a freezer."

"Huh?" Miyuki glances back, gaze darting to the three tubs that he has made Furuya hold for him as he grabs a fourth one. "Yeah, I know. What about it?"

"…Where are you going to keep all of this?"

Miyuki blinks, triumphant with the strawberry cheesecake flavour that was hidden right at the back now in his hands. "I'm going to finish those, there's no need to keep anything. Say," he grins. "What flavour do you want? My treat."

Furuya looks dubiously at the number of tubs he's already holding, but he glances into the freezer. Miyuki follows his line of sight towards a cookies and cream tub which he takes out and gestures towards the younger to follow him to the cashier.

Though it's not particularly warm, but by the time they get back to Miyuki's room, the ice-cream has already started to melt at the edges in the tubs. Miyuki has a fleeting thought that _maybe_ he might've overestimated the speed in which he's going to consume the ice-cream, but it's too late to regret. He sits himself against the foot of his bed and digs into the strawberry cheesecake one first, savouring the sweetness down his throat. Furuya shuffles down next to him and brings his knees up, balancing his ice-cream on them before pressing his spoon into the creamy texture.

Miyuki is halfway into his tub when he notices Furuya watching him again—he probably should be used to it by now, but under these circumstances where he's _indulging_ , he feels a tad more self-conscious than usual.

"What?" he asks, after licking away the ice-cream at the edges of his lips, well aware that Furuya follows the action.

Furuya swallows his spoonful before speaking. "Miyuki-senpai, you…don't want to go home?"

At this, Miyuki nearly drops the tub he's holding.

"I will go back, I just have some things to do first," he says casually, and in his opinion, a bit too quickly. "Being captain isn't all that easy, you know?"

Except he isn't exactly doing anything of that nature now, and those words feel hard like a defensive wall he's prepared for a question exactly like that. Furuya's gaze flickers to Miyuki's hands which are gripped tight around the ice-cream tub, and then back to the other's face again. It feels like Furuya _knows_ he's lying, then again, Miyuki is pretty sure that was a moment even Sawamura could've seen through.

Maybe.

At the back of his mind Miyuki knows he should be honest—or at least _try_ to—because isn't Furuya his boyfriend? Isn't sharing things about themselves part of being in a relationship? Isn't it about time that he trusts…gives…something back to Furuya, who has been waiting on him since they started? But somehow it's not really a matter of whether he trusts Furuya or not, because when it comes down to it, he does, Miyuki _thinks_ he does, but it's more about him putting whatever _he_ is into words. There are just some things that cannot be phrased into sentences, or if even if they could, it would leave him too thin after all the bleeding.

Miyuki smiles, not entirely real. "You don't want me here?" he teases. "I'm offended, Toru."

"I didn't say that," Furuya replies after a while, flicking his gaze down towards his ice-cream.

Then, Furuya scoops a spoonful of the ice-cream and pushes it into Miyuki's mouth, who swallows it in surprise and chokes at the abrupt cold freezing his throat.

"What was _that_?" He coughs, wiping at his lips.

"…You look…happier, when you're eating it," Furuya says uncertainly, and it dawns upon Miyuki that Furuya was probably trying to…comfort…him….or something.

Miyuki half snorts at this revelation; he hasn't lost his touch so much that Furuya can see through him so easily has he? Or has it always been Furuya himself?

"Senpai," Furuya says suddenly whilst he tries not to find Furuya's awkward attempt amusing. "Come to Hokkaido with me."

" _Huh_?" Miyuki blinks rapidly before frowning. "Don't be stupid, of course I can't."

"Why?"

Furuya stays blank-faced, and Miyuki wants to face palm. "Apart from the flight fare—which I do not want to spend—where am I going to stay?"

"With me."

"And impose on your family?" Miyuki raises an eyebrow. "Do they even know who I am?"

He doesn't even know how close Furuya is to his parents—even if Furuya's parents know him as the team captain, it's not like it's totally _not_ _suspicious_ to spend a _week_ with your junior's family.

But Furuya nods. "They would like to meet you."

Miyuki's eyebrows furrow as he pauses, taking that sentence in slowly. "They would like to—…your parents…know about… _us_?"

Now _that_ , is something he didn't expect.

Furuya nods.

"Wait—you, you told them? And they're…fine with it?" Miyuki trails off, tone half faint, half skeptical.

Furuya nods again.

Wow. So there are close knit families which are really accepting, Miyuki thinks, and for a moment he recognises the bitter taste at the back of his throat as jealousy, but that's ridiculous because his father probably cares too little to complain about his son being in a relationship with another boy.

What the hell, Furuya's parents know about him and… _approve_?

Ah, but if, if they know how Miyuki actually treats their precious son, he might die.

Furuya peers at him waiting for an answer, and Miyuki sighs. He does want to visit Hokkaido someday, for sight-seeing and stuff, but the idea of meeting his… _boyfriend's_ parents now is just…a little too much.

"I'm not willing to spend on the flight fare," he says, crossing his arms.

Furuya looks disappointed, but his hands clench and unclench around his ice-cream tub that has more liquid than ice-cream in it now before opening his mouth again. "I, I can ask my—"

"Next time, okay?" Miyuki cuts him off, trying not to sound too overwhelmed at the idea of ever meeting Furuya's parents who _know who he is_ to their son. "What kind of boyfriend would I be if I made your parents pay for me, hmm?"

Furuya takes his answer quietly, contemplating. "Then…can I sleep here tonight?"

Miyuki isn't really sure what train of thought Furuya operates on, but he smirks anyway. "…You really want to spend time with me, is that it?" he grins. "You can just say that, you know."

Furuya puts his ice-cream down on the floor so that he can face Miyuki properly. Miyuki watches as Furuya leans on his knees and comes close to him, gently taking his face between his palms. Miyuki almost makes a comment about the sticky residue on Furuya's fingers, but the pitcher presses their foreheads together before meeting their mouths softly.

"Even when I see you…I miss you," Furuya says in that quiet voice of his when he pulls back slightly, and Miyuki completely forgets about the ice-cream tub in his lap until it topples to the ground, luckily too empty too spill anything.

"Miyuki-senpai," Furuya breathes his name before kissing him again.

Furuya tastes so _sweet_.

Miyuki licks over Furuya's lips and entangles their tongues together deeply, inhaling hard breaths as he kisses Furuya harder, his hands grappling to grip Furuya by the waist under the other's shirt. Whenever they part for air, he watches how Furuya gazes at him with the pitcher's cheeks steadily getting flushed, and feels how Furuya's hands curl around his jaw. He bites gently into Furuya's bottom lip as he slides one hand up Furuya's abdomen, caressing the firm muscles and circling the other's navel with his thumb. Furuya makes a soft sound at the touch, and when he does it again, Furuya breaks their lip lock to make a noise that sounds like a whimper.

Furuya's parents would _absolutely_ murder him if they knew exactly where his mind is diving into—Miyuki grabs Furuya's shirt front and pulls him back to continue their kiss until he's satisfied. He's aware of how the heat in his groin flares up with the way Furuya pants breathless against his mouth after that.

It's been seven months and they haven't really gotten very physical—Furuya has helped him get off with breathplay a couple of times, and he's touched Furuya over the other's clothes a couple of times, but it's nowhere near what most people would expect in a relationship between boys.

It's not like Miyuki hasn't thought about it—whether Furuya has, Miyuki doesn't really know—but he doesn't have lube or condoms and they have training and matches all the time; there's no way Miyuki is willing to try sex with its possibility of getting hurt. Moreover there's nowhere to _do_ it; his room isn't exactly _that_ private, the toilet sounds horrible but it was considerable if he was desperate, the bath would get him killed if Kuramochi found out about it and behind the equipment shed or in an empty classroom sounds way too much for a first time.

But because Miyuki _has_ thought about it, he has wondered how Furuya would look like beneath him dizzy with pleasure, or maybe above him with that concentrated gaze dedicated to making him come.

Both sound good.

"Toru," he breathes. "Satoru," he murmurs lowly. "I'm going to touch you."

He pushes Furuya to the ground slow enough to let Furuya refuse if the other wanted to—but Furuya's curious eyes merely track how he climbs over with his knees bracing the sides of Furuya's hips, and then straddling the other with his entire weight. Miyuki groans as their crotches rub against each other—if he wasn't hard before he is certainly getting to it, and he can feel Furuya's own starting to strain. He slides up Furuya's shirt to expose the pale skin underneath—he's seen it plenty of times in the baths they've taken together, but he's done nothing so depraved as to lean forward and take that skin into his mouth.

Furuya seems to be ticklish around the ribs, which is exactly why he soothes his palms up around them as he suckles and licks from Furuya's collarbone down to the other's chest, causing the other to jerk his hips slightly at the sensation. It makes for good friction between them, and Miyuki closes his mouth over the right nipple when he meets it, sucking around it the same way he has read about this.

Furuya bucks his hips when he does, and the sound of heavy breathing gets louder—but Furuya doesn't make as loud noises as Miyuki expects to draw out. He looks up briefly, wondering if he's isn't doing this as well as he can, and isn't prepared for the way Furuya _looks_ —the other has closed his eyes with a deep reddish hue to his cheeks, head tilted to one side. Furuya cracks open his eyes when Miyuki stops, and Miyuki can't resist the smirk edging into the corner of his lips.

"That felt good, huh," he says more to himself before kissing Furuya's skin once more.

His hands make way towards Furuya's pants next—he's so turned on that he's a little impatient about seeing what works. He pops the button and pulls the zipper while watching Furuya, but Furuya makes no move to stop him even as he tugs the trousers down. He pushes his palm against the bulge inside the boxers first, feeling the shape and weight of it, which draws a quiet moan from above. Miyuki swallows as he finally pulls the underwear down too, taking a moment to stare at how lewd _Furuya_ looks underneath him, bare from chest to thighs—he's going to hell for how much he actually _likes_ seeing this, if his cock hardening is any reaction to go by.

He takes a hold of Furuya's erection into his hands, thumbing over the pre come that had already gathered at the silt, and Furuya's hands grabs at his waist for something to hold. Miyuki grins, leaning forward to brush their lips very lightly together.

"You said you think of me when you get off," he murmurs as he starts stroking Furuya the same way he would to himself, watching the way Furuya's eyelids flutter in pleasure. "That was what you meant, wasn't it?"

Furuya doesn't answer him, instead, lets out another quiet moan and swallow. "M-miyuki-senpai," he breathes. "—I-I…"

Miyuki feels Furuya's arms sliding around his waist and holding him tight as Furuya's back arches and bucks his hips up, rubbing his cock into Miyuki's hand with a sharp thrust. Just like that, Furuya comes over his hand and Miyuki only realises this when Furuya's fingers dig painfully into his waist and breathes his name with a shaky voice again. He immediately lets go of jerking Furuya off, and for a moment he stares at the dazed blissed out state Furuya blinks up at him with.

That was. Fast.

And Miyuki is still painfully hard in his own pants.

Shame is way past out of the window as he shoves his own boxers and pants down to touch himself, leaning on his knees and one elbow as he strokes himself rougher than usual, groaning into it and ignoring the fact that Furuya is lying right beneath him. He's getting there when fingers press against his jaw to tilt his head—when he opens his eyes to see what's going on, he meets Furuya's blue eyes directly into his vision. Heat blossoms over his face at the sudden awareness that Furuya is holding his face to watch his every pleasured groan, but that kind of also makes his cock throb harder.

"Senpai…" Furuya whispers between them and Miyuki gasps out a particularly heavy moan, eyes screwing shut.

"Fuck, _fuck_ ," he mutters, concentrated stroking himself harder to reach the climax, when Furuya slips his fingers behind his nape and pulls him down to meet their mouths.

Miyuki exhales roughly, lungs suddenly devoid of air and his mind goes blank—before he knows it, he's gripping himself tightly while he rides the pleasure with little jerks of own hips as come splatters, gasping hard against Furuya's mouth with, "F-fuck, Sato— _ngh_ —"

It takes a while for him to get back to his senses; he slumps half onto the floor and half on Furuya's shoulder, breathing hard. A nice flush is still on Furuya's cheeks but he's probably sporting the same. His hand is absolutely filthy and so is Furuya's stomach, but he can't be bothered to find a tissue now, not when Furuya slides an arm over his waist and curls around him, eyes sliding shut. They probably should be doing this on the bed, but it seems like Furuya doesn't care where he sleeps, and Miyuki doesn't think he has the energy to move them both either yet.

Several minutes later Miyuki remembers about the four tubs of (melted) ice-cream sitting on his table _and_ that his door isn't locked.

He glances up at the sleeping face, and hears himself laugh.

* * *

 _-everything about you is so easy to love-_

* * *

 ** _Fin._**


End file.
